American Psycho: Unfinished Business
by jakegissler23
Summary: Ever seen the classic American Psycho? Did the ending leave you puzzled and maybe even a little pissed off? This fan fiction story is an alternate ending of the movie, I really just wanted to add in some of my own fixes and tie everything together.
1. Chapter 1

AMERICAN PSYCHO: UNFINISHED BUSINESS

"This… this can't be possible. I killed Paul Allen… I watched my axe crush his skull. I watched his blood spray onto my face. He's… He's DEAD!" Patrick pants up and down the bathroom inside the bar where he continues to explain to himself that he butchered Paul Allen. Batemans work friends and even his lawyer are too caught up in their own perfect little lives to even notice the insane killer Patrick is.

Suddenly, Luis, Patrick's co-worker who is a hideaway homosexual approaches Patrick in the bathroom. "Hey Pat, want to fool around?" Luis states flirtatiously. "Luis… GET OUT OF MY WAY, now." Patrick pleads as he splashes water on his face, paying absolutely no attention to Luis. Luis continues to talk to Patrick, pleading some sort of homosexual relationship with him, however Patrick does not hear a word Luis is saying. He is much too focused on his face which is looking a little bit swollen. "God damnit. I should have used my ice pack this morning. I just knew I should have done it. You're losing your mind Patrick. You're losing your fucking mind!" Patrick yells to himself. Luis then reaches out and slowly rubs his hand down Patrick's cheek. Patrick snaps back in to reality and grabs Luis' hand and twists it nearly to its breaking point. Instead of yelling in agony, Luis is somewhat turned on by this physical altercation. "How do you like that, Luis? Maybe you'll think next time before touching my perfect face with those filthy fucking hands of yours." Patrick exclaims as he continues to apply pressure to Luis' arm. "Oh Pat. Such a strong man you are. GO ahead. Break it. You big strong man." Luis says back to Pat.

Completely freaked out Patrick throws Luis' hand down and states: "You disgust me Luis, you are like a piece of garbage that even the garbage men don't want to pick up. Look at your suit, you look like you shop at a GoodWill, or maybe even an Army Salvation store. Let this be known, Luis, that if you ever touch me again I will bash your fucking skull in. Do you understand?"

Luis stands in wow after hearing Patrick say this. "Patrick I am sorry. I can't do dinner tonight, or any other night. I don't want anyone from the office getting the wrong idea. But, here is my address it is right across the street from the Empire State building." The little card reads 2589 South Garden Street, New York, New York. "And you won't even need to bring dinner, I'll have you for my appetizer, my main course and my dessert, if you know what I mean." Luis states winking at Patrick through the bathroom mirror as he fixes his hair. Patrick is completely caught off guard by these homesexual advances form Luis, and he is beginning to realize that Luis has not understood a single word he just said. He then storms out of the bathroom.

I understand now. I can see clearly now. These idiots. They don't realize what I am doing. They don't even know who I am. I am just a pawn in their greed filled chess game. I can continue what I have been doing. I will make them see!


	2. Chapter 2

AMERICAN PSYCHO: UNFINISHED BUSINESS

CHAPTER 2

"I have this figured out, now." Patrick says to himself as he storms past his group of friends at the bar. "Pat, hey, Pat! Where are you going?" They all state in unison. "Sorry guys, I have to return some video tapes." Patrick replies.

While stepping out into the cold city of New York, Patrick quickly turns on his CD player to listen to some Genesis. Nodding along to the blasting music, Patrick begins scheming his next plan. "Maybe I will go to the office and catch up on some work." Then Patrick's phone begins to ring interrupting his music. "For God sakes who might want to call me at this time?!.

"Yes, hello?" Patrick says with impatience.

"PAT! It's Steve from the office."

"Ah yes, Steve," I have no idea who in the fuck "Steve" is Patrick thinks to himself as he pretends to be best friends with Steve. "What do you need, Steve?"

"Well, I hope that this isn't a bad time, but I just scored a date with Wendy who works in copyright and my god is she a dime! Where do you think I should take that fine piece of ass for a date?"

Patrick getting angry says: "You know it is always a bad time to call me, actually, I wouldn't mind if you dropped dead, Steve."

"Dorsia?! Pat, I'd never get a reservation there! It's already 2P.M., I heard there is a two month waiting list for a reservation.

Patrick thinks to himself briefly, realizing yet again that no one is understanding him or his rude comments.

"STEVE! I don't care about where you eat. I hope that you die a slow painful death."

"Ok, Pat. Thanks for the help. I think I will try for Dorsia! See you back at the office."

Patrick hangs up his phone in a hurry and continues his stroll back to the office. "I can't believe that Steve did not get the memo. The memo that I want him dead for interrupting my alone time. I will rip his tounge out and show it to him, maybe then he won't be able to talk and he will realize reality."

Patrick then slowly enters his office building that reads _Pierce &amp; Pierce Investments._ Once entering his firm, he sees the new colleague at the firm who has subsequently taken place of deceased Paul Allen. Pat watches Andy, the Paul Allen replacement, shaking hands with all of the other colleagues. "HEllO! I'm Andy, Paul Allen's replacement while he is in Europe." Andy says, repeating the same line to every new face. Pat sees Andy and wants nothing to do with him so he walks past him attempting to dodge the introduction. Stopping him in his tracks is Andy, who has his hand ready for shaking.

"HELLO! I'm An-."

"I know who you are. I'm Patrick Bateman, and I've already heard you say your stupid name 30 fucking times since I got off of the elevator. Save your petty introduction, I don't want to hear it."

"It is wonderful to meet you, Pat. I am Paul Allen's replacement until he gets back from Europe." Andy continues to ramble.

"Look, Andy. I know your new and all, but SHUT THE FUCK UP! Paul Allen is not coming back from Europe because I bashed his fucking face in with an axe. He is dead, and you will be too if you continue to look at me with that stupid smile of yours." Patrick practically screams. "And by the way, don't call me Pat, I am not your friend, in fact I am no ones friend, my name is Patrick and I will kill you if you even think about calling me Pat again."

"You like coffee, Pat?"

"Alright Andy… How about we go for dinner tonight, get to know one another a little better?"

"That sounds great! You make the reservations please, I'm not from around this area."

Patrick thinks to himself. This is perfect. Andy hasn't lived here before. I can slaughter him and no one would have a clue. These people don't even care if he's here. I killed the man he is replacing and they think he is still alive.

"Great, Andy. How is 9P.M.?"

"That is perfect, I will be able to get my workout in right before."

"Wonderful, I will make reservations for Dorsia."

Andy. What a pathetic name. He must think he is so great with his perfect white smile. Oh and his height, his dark blue eyes and sleek black hair. He must think he is so fucking perfect. All of the women in the office won't stop drooling over him. That is until I bash his face in, just like Paul Allen.


	3. Chapter 3

Andy, Andy, Andy, what a lucky specimen. First day on the new job, first day eating New York's fine cuisine, and oh, of course! How could I have forgotten? It will be Andy's first day meeting the blade of my 13-inch Huntmaster. I can just imagine. The blade: so sharp, divine... striking down on Andy's perfect face. Gosh, how did he get it so perfect? I need to know what face soaps he uses! I wonder if he uses the aquafol cleanser. Patrick thinks to himself as he watches Andy from his office window.

"Patrick"

"GOD DAMN, JEAN! Don't you know how to knock on a fucking door? Hasn't someone taught you respect in your useless life?"

"Patrick, I'm sorry… I have Detective Kimball on the phone for you… I didn't mean to barge in, I jus- I just knew you weren't busy at the moment, and I-, I'll tell him your out." Jean storms out of Patrick's office crying.

"Really you're going to sob like an eight year old, and what did I tell you about wearing that ugly dress!" Patrick screams.

Shit! Kimball. What the hell does that pig want with me? Paul Allen is gone in Europe. Or so everyone thinks. Why does he still insist on questioning me of his disappearance? Everyone in this office thinks that he is gone on a business trip; he even had lunch with my lawyer out there. With that many witnesses, how could he even put this on me? Oh, and Andy! He knows that he is Paul Allen's replacement! Wait a second… I can't kill Andy. It is too soon. Paul Allen has only been gone for a few weeks, and with this pig breathing down my neck I can't cause any more sudden changes at work. Think Patrick, think. You didn't graduate from Harvard Business because your dad has money. Patrick ponders. That's it! Dad. I can take Andy out for dinner tonight, get a few in him, slaughter him, and then I'll go visit Dad in Miami. I'll bring Bryce to dinner with us, and he will crash at my place. He will also have one too many. I'll "invite" Andy to the slumber party, he will decline and go his separate way. Then I leave for Miami in the morning, and nothing traces back to me! Perfect! Bateman you're a fucking genius! Patrick grabs his belongings and heads out of his office.

"Jean, I am taking the rest of the week off to visit my father in Miami. Cancel everything."

"But Patrick you have a meeting with Price brothers on Thursday"!

"Jean. I said cancel it. Can you not fucking hear?"

"Why must you yell at me, Patrick? I am only trying to help." Jean is still hyperventilating from what Patrick said before.

"I don't care what you're trying to do. The only thing you need to do is cancel my appointments before I toss you off 50 floors and watch your body hit the street like a tomato."

Jean is now balling her eyes out as Patrick walks away to find Bryce.

"Anyone seen Tim? I need to speak with Tim!" Patrick yells aloud to the whole office.

"Hey hot shot, what can I do for ya'?" Tim Bryce answers to Patrick's call.

"Bryce! You're going with me to give Andy a little taste of New York tonight"

"Sounds great, we will take him to Dorsia."

Dorsia… Fucking Dorsia! How the hell could he possibly have an in at Dorsia?

"There is no way we can get a reservation there, Bryce. You know that."

"Negative, Bateman. I got the in at Dorsia whenever I want."

I can't believe what I have just heard. An in at Dorsia… Whenever? This is insane.

"How?!" Patrick practically yells form excitement.

"Don't you worry about how Bateman."

"You have to tell me how Bryce, you absolutely have to!"

"I'm Timothy Bryce, that's how. I'll see you there. 8P.M., Pat."

Patrick stands in the middle of the office drooling, with a large grin on his face, as if he were a kid on Christmas.

Dorsia… At last! I can finally step foot into New Yorks most elegant restaurant. A table just for me. No reservation. Patrick Bateman you sure are something out of a movie.

"Hey there, Patty!" Andy laughs hitting Patrick's shoulder.

Did he just touch my suit. My $3,000 suit, now ruined from his filthy paws.

Holding in all of his anger Patrick puts on a fake smile.

"ANDY!" he says excitingly.

"What is on the agenda for tonight? Hopefully were taking home some skanks! Am I right Bateman, how great would that be?" Andy laughs out loud.

What a stupid fucking laugh. I can't stand the sight of this imbassal I want to bash his brains in right here. I could just take that clipboard from Jeans hand, and paint the walls red with his disgusting blood.

Cringing, Patrick slowly replies in a more fake manner than before.

"Dorsia! The best restaurant in the big apple! Be there at 8."

"8 sounds great, see what I did there?" Andy laughs obnoxiously placing his hand on Patrick's shoulder to help keep him standing. Patrick then strikes Andy's hand away from his shoulder and loses control.

"Do you have any idea how bad I want to rip your throat out and stuff it into your dying eyes? Don't you ever touch my suit again, Andy. I will serve a life sentence willingly if you ever fucking touch me again!"

"Alright Pat, wish I could talk all day but I have a lot to work on. See you at 8, buddy." Andy has one more laugh and strolls back to his office.

He is just like the rest of these self-righteous yuppies. Only thinking of himself. He must think he is so fucking great well wait till I have his brains as the new flooring in my wonderful apartment.

Four hours pass and it is now 8:45P.M. Patrick arrives at Dorsia, seeing Bryce and Andy already sitting down.

"No! but really who gives a rats ass about the crisis in the middle east!" Andy says to Tim, the two laughing uncontrollably.

"Gentleman." Patrick says softly as if he is intruding.

"Mr. Bateman reporting for duty." Tim says.

"Sorry I am late to the party." Patrick replies.

"It is just getting started Bateman!" Andy yells belligerently.

This is perfect. I showed up late and they are both already blasted. I just need to drop this sedative into Bryce's drink and he will be out in no time. The waiter will think were just a bunch of Wall Street assholes who had a few too many. Not me though. I am Wall Street's finest, the other two, well they fit the stereotype.

"I need to use the pisser boys, don't have too much fun while I'm gone!" Bryce stumbles off toward the restroom.

"So Pat… Just me and you. You and I. HAHAHA!"

"Do you always laugh at your own pathetic jokes, Andy? Do you have any idea how stupid you look?"

"This place is great, Bateman! No thanks to you for getting the reservation though. Tim told me all about how you could never get a reservation here."

Bryce told this piece of shit that? I had much more respect for Bryce. He is still the most interesting person I know, but I might have to kill him for undermining the one and only Patrick Bateman.

"Why don't you shut the hell up and keep drinking Andy. Drink yourself into a nice coma."

The two both laugh out loud, and Patrick slips the sedative into Bryce's drink.

The three men continue they're extravaganza at Dorsia and Bryce soon passes out in his seat. Andy at this point is completely blacked out drunk, and Patrick is ready to leave. Once the trio leaves Dorisa, sober Patrick lugs Bryce to the side of the street to call a taxi while Andy stumbles into a nearby alley.

"Motherfucker". Patrick says to himself.

Patrick slides Bryce who is completely sedated and slumps his body upright against a street wall. He then follows Andy into the alley.

This is it. I finally get to bathe in Andy's blood.

Patrick cracks open his briefcase and pulls out his 13-inch Huntmaster knife. Andy continues to slowly drift into the heart of the dark alley.

"Oh Andy… come here!" Patrick says calmly.

"PAT! Lets go find some skanks!" Drunken Andy screams.

Patrick walks up to Andy wielding his behemoth of a knife and turns him around to face him.

"Andy… you're going the wrong way. The skanks are over here!" Patrick points toward the nearby dumpster.

"Where? I don't see them?" Andy is in complete awe.

"Gosh Pat I had a little bit too much to drink." Andy suddenly starts to gag and unleashes a coat of fresh vomit directly onto Patricks trench coat.

He just fucking puked on my coat! My perfect Threace coat. I paid $4,000 for this to be handmade and shipped straight from Germany.

Patrick gazes down at the mess that has now become his coat. He then grabs Andy by his hair and pulls his head toward the night sky. Andy's face is now painted pale, with his eyes rolling back and forth, and Patrick is the only reason he is standing due to his legs wobbling like a boxer in the 10th round.

"Andy… DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?"

Andy stands dozing off to sleep while standing up.

"ANDY, ANDY! Wake up!" Patrick slaps And on the face to wake him.

Andy is awoken by Pat's slap and the 13-inch knife being waved before his eyes.

"Goodnight Andy."

Patrick then stabs Andy repeatedly in the throat until he falls to the ground where Patrick slams the knife into Andy's chest.

"Yes! YES! YES! Die Andy, fucking die you perfect piece of shit!" Screaming aloud, Patrick continues to stab Andy for several minutes, his face and clothes now bathed in Andy's blood.

"Hello Patrick" an unknown voice comes from behind Patrick and he is then stuck with a syringe that knocks him unconscious.

Two hours later Patrick wakes up in an empty room- completely decorated in plastic wrap. Patrick is naked and his body is restrained to a table by at least 30 rolls of plastic wrap and duct tape.

"WHAT THE FUCK? WHERE AM I?" Patrick screams.

A man appears from the ground.

"You don't know who I am, but I know you, Mr. Bateman."

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? Let me out or I will, I will fucking k"

Interrupting Patrick: "You'll what… Kill me? I wouldn't count on that.

"RAHHHH!" Patrick helplessly screams as he attempts to shred the surplus of plastic wrap from his body.

"Patrick you're not going anywhere. No one can hear you. Scream all you want. Threaten my life to the best of your ability. You are not getting out of this. Look over here." The man points over to the wall where an array of Patrick's deacesed victim's photos is placed strategically. Continuing to breakout of his restraint, Patrick is not paying attention.

"Patrick fucking look!" The man moves Patrick's head toward the photos.

"What the hell is this?"

"This is Al. The homeless man you killed."

"Who the fuck are you! Tell ME!

"This is Paul Allen. Remember him? Do you remember killing these innocent victims?"

Patrick begins to cry. "Yes, I remember, I'm sick… I can't. I can't stop. But how are you any better than me? You're going to kill me just like I kill people."

"Yes I do. But I rid the earth of scum like you." The man grabs Patrick's Huntmaster knife and places a facemask on his face to block bloodshed. He then raises the knife to the ceiling.

"NO!" Patrick screams as his favorite knife is plunged into his chest.

After cleaning up the room and wrapping Patrick's dead body in plastic wrap the man heads to a dock where he has his own boat.

"I am Dexter Morgan, Patrick Bateman." Dexter says to Patrick's corpse before dropping him into the ocean.


End file.
